


Overgrown

by forgetcanon



Series: and love was their savior [16]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
Genre: Gen, Master & Padawan Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4156227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetcanon/pseuds/forgetcanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Room of a Thousand Fountains has been left to its own devices, in the year it stood abandoned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overgrown

On Coruscant, the planet bound in city miles deep, the Jedi created an oasis of nature. Some five-hundred-odd streams and falls ran over rock, moss, and riverbed, feeding reeds and fish alike. Birds from a thousand planets mingled in the trees and grass. For generations, Jedi had meditated or conversed there.

It had been a grand place. The year and a half of neglect had done much to diminish it.

In the first rounds of their explorations of the temple, Visas had wandered in the room for almost an hour. She had proclaimed the room, “Not dead, merely asleep. This place dreams of Jedi."

The moment they located the environmental controls for the room they had drained the stale water from the riverbeds. Some of the sections of grass and reeds were beginning to dry out and die, but they’d managed to rig up a temporary way of watering the room: twice a day, the fire-prevention sprinklers would activate. Bao-Dur privately thought that some of the more sensitive plants would not hold up long under this treatment. 

Tiniat didn’t want to dip into the vast Jedi funds recently unlocked to her, just to hire a gardener, though Mical argued that it would be cheaper to save the plants in the room sooner rather than later.  The fish and birds that had once inhabited the room must have been caught and removed at some point, for there were no trace of them.

For now, the room was caught in limbo, dying very slowly.

Other rooms in the Jedi Temple were as pristine as the day the Jedi abandoned them. Their cleaning droids had never stopped their rounds and the air cyclers kept the whole place smelling fresh and clean. But as he followed Tiniat's footsteps through the layers of dead leaves and dust that had gathered among the trees, it wasn't difficult to imagine what she must be feeling, coming back to the Temple after so much turmoil- the invisible debris that littered every room, but had physical form, here.

Tiniat's footsteps took him to the edge of a small clearing in a clump of trees. The grass underfoot was beginning to dry here, too. A round bench stood in the middle of the clearing, wide enough for four people to sit on back-to-back if they were friends, or perhaps for two people to face each other. There was nothing to put your back against. Someone could attack you from any side. The Jedi of decades past might have found it a good spot to meditate. 

Tiniat had not entered the clearing. She stood at the edge of it, hands clasped behind her back, weight perfectly balanced. Her eyes were closed.

She stirred at the sound of his approach.

“This was the last place I spoke to my Master,” she said quietly. “Before I left for the war."

Bao-Dur didn’t know much about Tiniat’s master. His name was Nemo and his lightsaber had been stored on Dantooine following his death. Beyond that, the man was a mystery, a kindly specter. Bao-Dur did not wish to pry into painful memories.

But if Tiniat wished to talk, he would humor her.

“You were fond of him,” Bao-Dur said at last. Sometimes, it was best to start with the obvious.

Tiniat smiled. “Yes. Yes, I was. Still am."

“Leaving for the war didn’t… come between you two?"

Tiniat turned back to the empty bench in the empty clearing.

“I’m sorry."

“No, no.” Tiniat shook her head. “That’s not it. Nemo didn’t… _approve_. But he understood that I wasn’t leaving for war out of bloodlust. He always was always more willing to entertain different interpretations of the Code than... other Masters. I always thought that once the war was over, the Council might..."

“You thought the Order would accept you back,” Bao-Dur said.

Tiniat nodded. “I assumed there would be some punishment for the Knights who left, but I didn’t understand what the war meant, for the galaxy or for the Jedi who fought in it. I didn’t take the wars the Jedi had _already_ fought in into account. I didn’t know that Malachor would happen."

She smiled, bitter and fond all at the same time. “I was so young."

Bao-Dur thought back. He had not considered himself young at the time. He had been fully grown, with a degree and a steady job, but he had joined the fight anyway. He had known that his skills would avenge the deaths of his cousins, of all the families and lives torn apart by the Mandalorians. 

They had, but not in the way he expected them to.

“I don’t think anyone expected the last ten years,” Bao-Dur said quietly.

“Revan did. Kreia did."

“They helped _cause_ the last ten years."

Tiniat's lips twitched. “And their foresight is to be admired. So far, it seems that their plans turned out almost exactly how they predicted them to. Though it is difficult for any of us to gauge what either of them _really_ intended."

She sighed slightly. “Well. Unless Revan decides to return to the galaxy, I think it’s fair to say that their plans have reached their ends."

She turned back to the center of the clearing.

Discussing Revan never failed to upset her. Bao-Dur personally wondered which Tiniat would prefer: for Revan to have died wherever she went, to give the galaxy some rest from her machinations; or for Revan to return, so she could account for the damage she’d done. He doubted Tiniat herself knew.

“If I’d known this was the last time I would see Nemo…"

Tiniat’s shoulders sank.

Bao-Dur came around to her other side and brushed his flesh arm against hers. She leaned on him gratefully.

“The more time I spend here, the more names I come up with.” She blinked hard. “Many of them are people I cared about, but some are just… people I knew in passing. Masters I only knew about through gossip. Younglings that I observed once or twice. As far as I know, every single one of them are dead. It did not occur to me before, but to see this place so empty-"

She was not alone in her grief- Visas knew the particular pain of being among the last of a kind. But that did not make her grief less. Bao-Dur did not have any words that would soothe her. 

So he said nothing. He let her lean on him and shudder, until her shuddering stopped.

At last she said, "I believe Mira tracked down the former groundskeeper's assistant. She'll be coming by in the next few weeks to assess the work needed to repair this place."

"If she needs any shields put up, let me know."

There was other work that needed doing, but perhaps Bao-Dur could find a gardening droid and have it rake the footpaths. 

* * *

 

The Room of a Thousand Fountains always helped calm Tiniat, even in her most troubled moments. Perhaps it reminded her of her home planet. Perhaps it simply held the feeling of life that Coruscant lacked, however artificial it might be. The streams of water, the chirping of the birds, the quiet rustle of the plants- they all soothed her in a way that few other things could.

Today, however, Tiniat could not be soothed.

She would sit for a time. Her face would clear as she analyzed her problem. She would follow each possible path, as she had been trained to do.

Then she would find that each possible answer lay in a dead end, she would stand, and she would begin to pace once more.

Nemo watched two iterations of this cycle before he stepped into the small clearing she had claimed for her own. "What troubles you, Tiniat?"

Tiniat jumped, and bowed to her old Master in surprise. “Nemo. Forgive me, I have been... considering in a conundrum."

That much was plain. “Speaking has always assisted you in your thinking in the past. Perhaps I may still offer guidance."

“Master, you may not wish to discuss what I struggle with."

Tiniat was too well-trained to show her guilt. Nemo knew her well enough that he saw it anyway. 

“Ah.” Nemo slowly took a seat on the bench. “I see."

Tiniat knew him, in turn. Her eyes widened the tiniest bit in surprise. Then she shook her head.

“You already know,” Tiniat said. “Of course you do."

Nemo patted the bench.

Tiniat sat across from him and drew up her legs. Her anxiety did not fade- instead, his presence merely provided a focus for it.

So Nemo spoke first. “Several days ago I was conducting research in the archives and I happened to overhear a conversation between two masters. They were discussing what kind of hot-headed fool might seek out war, rather than trust in the wisdom of the council." He smiled. "A certain young knight I knew well came to mind."

He had kept his voice light, almost joking, but this was no matter to joke about. His former student searched his face for any sign of what he _really_ thought before she replied. She had never been the type to sneak off in the night, as so many of her age-mates were doing now. At least Tiniat did him the courtesy of explaining why she was defying the Council, defying the Order, and defying him.

At last she said, “I know you do not believe I should go-"

"After all these years, you should know better than to assume I believe anything," Nemo said, shocking her into silence. "I do not approve of defying the council, or of seeking out battle like I know you have wanted to, but my disapproval will not serve either of us. Young one, I see now that I should never had tried to stifle the fire you carry in you. Perhaps it will serve you well in the battles to come."

Nemo put a hand on Tiniat's shoulder. She pressed her lips together and blinked hard. She always sought to be strong, a pillar for others to lean on, but it meant she rarely knew when it was acceptable to bend. Perhaps the battles to come would teach her, in one way or another.

"Go," Nemo said. "May the Force be with you in the times to come."

Tiniat nodded. She waited until she trusted her voice to respond. “And may the Force be with you as well, my friend."

Nemo remained long after she had gone. 

He had lost his Master to war. He had lost many of his age-mates to the Dark Side, either in pursuit of it or fighting it. He did not know a single Jedi who had not faced such loss, save for the newest generation- and they could see the scars their order yet bore.

What did the Force intend, sending his Padawan to face that merciless forge? Was there a lesson to be learned there, that had not yet been taught?

The chirping of the birds provided no answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk idk, the Room of a Thousand Fountains has always been a really important place to Tiniat- when she describes the color of her lightsaber, she says that it's "Silver, like the streams in the room of a thousand fountains." I always knew that.
> 
> And I always knew that Nemo and Tiniat had a good relationship, even though they did not see eye to eye on many things.
> 
> So those two things came together in this one.


End file.
